


Give Me Joy

by Miss_L



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_L/pseuds/Miss_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter lost a bet to Wade. Oh dear...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alwayswhenleastexpected](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayswhenleastexpected/gifts).



> Spideypool Secret July Santa for alwayswhenleastexpected on tumblr.  
> Reference: http://fashionista.com/2013/04/durex-releases-new-iphone-app-controlled-vibrating-underwear#awesm=~oHosaD9ViScdz1

Fair is fair. He has lost the bet, and Wade got to pick the game. Peter would be lying if he said he wasn't secretly _very_ thrilled at the prospect of… Well, that was rather it – he had no idea. All day, he had been on edge, barely paying attention in class and at work. Finally, he came home, only to find the apartment empty. A non-descript paper bag stood on the counter, with a note attached. It said “Petey” in Wade’s uneven handwriting and the boy more or less ripped it off the bag anxiously, resisting the urge to peek. He’d know soon enough.

_Dear Peter,_

_This is your surprise. Put them on under your suit and don’t forget the ear piece. I have the remote control, and I will be watching you._

_Love,_

_Wade_

That was… Vague. Peter looked at the bag in growing fear, but he couldn’t back out – his boyfriend would literally never let him live it down. Out came two boxes. The little one with the earpiece Peter put aside for later. The second box was black, no writing anywhere. Knowing Deadpool’s connections and the amount of people who owed him (or were simply too afraid of him to say “no”), this could have been a prototype of some sort. Adrenaline surging and hands shaking, the web-head opened the box. On a lining of black velvet lay a single article – black lace panties with frilly pink ornaments.

“I am _not_ wearing that,” Peter told the empty kitchen resolutely and pushed the box away.

And yet… Wade _did_ go through all the trouble to get these… And what about that “remote control”? He fingered the fabric – nothing seemed out of order…

Peter took the microphone, switched it on and put it in his ear. Immediately, a booming voice came to life.

“Hello, Petey. Did you put them on yet?”

“No, Wade-,” Peter sputtered, then collected himself. He wasn't going to give Wade the satisfaction of chickening out. “What do you mean about remote control?”

“You’ll see,” Wade’s voice had gone down to low purring. Damn that man!

“All- all right. But no funny business when people’s lives are at stake, yeah?”

“Deal!” Wade shouted cheerily. Peter could hear his grin through the airwaves.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Peter wondered while putting the panties on in front of the mirror. The garment was snug, but soft and stretchy. Soon, the cool fabric took on the temperature of Peter’s body, and by the time he had put on his suit, he almost stopped feeling it altogether. Apart from the little bows sticking out slightly at his hips, and the unfamiliar feeling of seams against the inside of his thighs and his butt, nothing suggested that he was even wearing women’s lingerie. He ran his gloved hand over his crotch and blushed, then put on his mask quickly, not to be confronted with his own growing arousal. He hoped he wouldn't get an accidental boner when swinging through the brightly lit streets of New York.

Ten minutes later, he was out of the window and just shooting a web when a sudden vibration through his body almost made him loose his footing on the fire-escape. The sensation seemed to be coming from the panties, although it was over as quickly as it had started. The boy’s stomach sunk. Never had the words “remote control” seemed more ominous than now, when he was literally at his boyfriend’s mercy. Still, the comm was silent. Taking a deep breath, Peter swung towards his favourite roof. The moment he had solid concrete under his feet, the buzzing started for real. The web-head bent over double, building waves of pleasure coursing through his crotch and spreading out to his limbs. 

“W-wade,” he mumbled, hating how out of breath he was already. “Wade, please…”

“Please what?” the teasing and never-serious voice answered.

Peter wasn't sure. This felt good. Strange, but good. But patrol! Saving lives! But… The sensation- It was unfamiliar, yet more intense than anything his own hands could ever accomplish (still not as good as Wade’s hands. And mouth. And- Right, focus). The merc understood and the buzzing stopped.

“No funny business when people’s lives are at stake, I promised,” he said, for once serious.

Peter nodded, unable to say more (Wade said he was watching, didn't he?), and the vibration started up again, faster now. _Different settings. Damnit!_ Peter fell to his hands and knees, ass twitching involuntarily as one after the other, waves of pleasure washed over him. Then the police scanner Peter hadn’t yet taken out of his backpack came to life, and the buzzing in his pants stopped. On spaghetti arms and legs, he crawled over to his things and listened out. Hostage-situation with possible arson. For once, Peter felt rather exasperated about his vigilante duty.

“Wade, I have to go,” he whispered, still breathless. No answer came. Nor did the buzzing renew.

Peter sighed, hid his backpack behind the air-vent and breathed a few times slowly through his nose. Then he set off towards the crime scene, hoping that Wade was following.

Three hours, one gunshot that scraped his shoulder, and dealing with two particularly dense, yet thorough police officers later, Peter was finally finished. Wade had just told him how proud he was of his baby boy, so the exhausted youth even chanced a smile when shaking hands with the annoying cops. Suddenly, the panties came to life again. Peter groaned and bent over double – he had completely forgotten all about the pesky things! To the officers’ inquiry whether he was alright, he mumbled something about a bruised rib through gritted teeth, and walked towards the darkest alley he saw.

Once there, he leaned against a wall and tried to breathe.

“Wade,” he said sternly.

“Don’t give me that, darling. Your job was over, and I’ve been patient, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but they saw it!”

“Nah, they saw you being in pain, like the little self-sacrificing idiot you are.”

Before Peter could formulate a fitting answer – laden with sarcasm, of course – up went the setting, and all thoughts evaporated from his mind. The web-head stumbled behind a dumpster and slid down the wall, moaning audibly before he could stop himself.

“Wade!” he hissed. “This is a public place!”

No answer came, but the pulsations quickened, travelling back and forth now, teasing Peter’s straining cock, then massaging his sensitive buttocks. The last thought the boy had was that people weren't likely to walk towards sex-noises in a dark alley, before a loud moan in his ear – clearly not his own – took his breath away and shut down his brain. Wade was listening, more than likely watching, and he was going to give that tease a show for his money!

Peter took off his gloves and rolled up his mask, then bit and sucked on his index and middle finger as his other hand massaged the inside of his thigh, adding to the building pleasure. 

“Peter,” Wade whispered huskily and the boy smiled wickedly around his digits.

His eyes slipped shut as he palmed his cock, back arching off the cold pavement. Wade must have realised what Peter was doing, because the rhythmic pulsing suddenly sped up, drawing a loud groan from the boy’s swollen lips. He finally took his fingers out of his mouth and put them against his perineum, pushing the vibrating panties hard against his hole. His other hand slipped inside his trousers, but over the lingerie. His moans and half-shouts got louder, accompanied by Wade’s loud hitching breathing. Peter imagined his boyfriend jerking himself off to the sights and sounds of taking the web-head apart completely at a distance.

“Wade,” he growled. 

He heard the strangled moan over the comm, a sure sign that the other man had orgasmed. He sped up his strokes, pushing the fabric of the pulsing panties harder and faster against his heated flesh. The image of Wade naked, writhing beneath him in bliss, burned behind his eyelids and he finally came, harder than he could remember. 

After an eternal second of utter bliss, Peter flopped back down on the ground, milking the last of his orgasm lazily, shuddering in aftershocks. Both men giggled simultaneously over the comm, then Peter huffed.

“Next time, you’re wearing them.”

“Sure thang, kid,” Wade quipped. “Should I carry you home, or can you walk?”

An annoyed growl was his only answer.


End file.
